Despite my dislike for Mr. Trump, I don’t care for the insults against his appearance. Sure, he’s fat and his skin is unnaturally orange. So what? Lincoln was ugly, too. For that matter, Caligula was beautiful. Outward appearance doesn’t matter.
Trump’s words and actions make him disgusting. His physical appearance is unimportant.
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I’ve heard people call Donald Trump a fascist, but I don’t think he is one. Fascism is a specific political philosophy and practice that Mr. Trump has probably never explored. He’s not the studious type.
Would-be dictators like Mr. Trump grabbed at power before Mussolini invented fascism, and they’ll grab at it in some future century when only a few historians will know what fascism was.
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One thing that scares me about Mr. Trump is his revealing how much people love to hate.
If a leader verbally rips into someone that a group hates, the members of the group will cheer until their lungs burn. I’ve seen liberals, conservatives, and others do it. It’s natural to adore someone who attacks the people you hate.
Meanwhile, the leader’s opponents attack the leader and his followers. The cycle of hate against hate gets uglier and uglier. I’ve seen people on my own side, people I consider friends, call for Trump’s supporters to die painfully. I don’t know if anyone’s immune from this syndrome, least of all me.
I don’t want some demagogue to turn me into a heartless monster.